


let down your iron guard

by soundsandsweetairs



Category: Muppet Treasure Island (1996), Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26188549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundsandsweetairs/pseuds/soundsandsweetairs
Summary: Jim Hawkins is chafing at the bit after ten years in the Royal Navy. When he hears that Long John Silver has been captured and is due to be executed, Jim hatches a plan to free him.
Relationships: Jim Hawkins/John Silver, Jim Hawkins/Long John Silver, Jim Hawkins/Long John Silver (Muppets)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	let down your iron guard

Jim gazed across the water towards Portsmouth, squinting in the sun. Nothing much was happening on watch, again. Life aboard the guardship HMS _Dragon,_ currently docked in Portsmouth Harbour, was dull but predictable. All in all, Jim reflected, he couldn’t complain too much. It was steady work, at least, which was more than many Navy men could say when there wasn’t a war on. 

Today was at least marginally more interesting than usual; they had visitors aboard the ship, trainees from the Royal Naval Academy. Jim watched them as they toured the _Dragon._ By God, they were young, looking around the ship with wide eyes. They were passing by Jim’s position at the helm when he overheard them. 

“... to be executed. The pirate John Silver, I didn’t think they’d ever catch him…”

Jim felt as if he’d been drenched in ice water. Surely he’d misheard. But no, the boys were continuing to discuss the capture of several pirates, Silver among their number. 

Jim knew he was staring conspicuously as they approached the captain’s cabin. He overheard the phrases “held in Newgate Prison” and “due to be executed in a week’s time” as the trainees awaited admittance. Jim sagged against the helm as the door to the cabin closed, cutting off the sound of their voices. He felt vaguely lightheaded, as though his head and body had become detached. 

Surely they were mistaken. Silver had never been caught before. Why now? Jim spent the rest of his watch in a haze of worry. Good Christ, he couldn’t just stay here and do nothing, knowing that Silver would be executed in seven short days. 

Jim retired to his hammock that evening, hoping to clear his mind with some sleep, but he tossed and turned. Jim pondered, then dismissed, what must have been a hundred different options for intervening in Silver’s sentence. He could petition the judge — no, that would take far too long. He could apply to the king for a pardon — Jim rolled his eyes. A ridiculous notion. 

What could Jim possibly say? _He saved my life when I was a child? I can still see the fear in his eyes when he told me he was afraid to hang? I look for him everywhere I go?_ As if any of that would convince a judge to commute Silver’s sentence. 

The worst thing of all, Jim reflected grimly, was that by any measure Silver deserved to hang. He had undoubtedly killed people. He had no qualms about stealing, or kidnapping, or any of the more gruesome aspects of piracy. And yet, the fact remained that a world without Long John Silver in it was a world that Jim didn’t want to live in. 

Over the years he’d often wondered what Silver was up to, or felt his ears perk up at the barest mention of pirates. Jim had always hoped that perhaps Silver had given up his wicked ways after escaping from the _Hispaniola._ Silver was no longer a young man — surely he had retired from being a “gentleman of fortune” to work as a merchant, or perhaps he now owned an inn somewhere warm and tropical. Jim sometimes imagined himself running into Silver by chance, on some island in the Caribbean. Silver would be proud of Jim’s advancement in the Navy (although he’d pretend to be dismayed that Jim had pledged his life to King and country). They would swap stories of their adventures on the high seas. Maybe, now that Jim was a man himself, Silver would want him, would take Jim in his arms and —

Jim cursed and glared up at the overhead above him. The man was scheduled to die in just a few days. Thinking about anything other than a plan to free him was utter folly. 

By the time Jim rose, he had decided: he would have to break Silver out himself. In the past he’d heard Squire Trelawney mention being friendly with the keeper of Newgate Prison; Jim wondered if he would be willing to keep the man busy while he attempted a break-in. Jim gulped. This would upend his life. He would have to desert — he certainly couldn’t return to the Navy after helping a pirate escape the gallows. Chances were, they wouldn’t even succeed. Jim would be condemned as well, and they’d both be even worse off than they started. 

Was it worth risking everything, on the slim chance that he could set Silver free?

Jim set his teeth. _Yes. Yes, it would be worth the risk._

———

Jim set his plan in motion the next morning. He packed up a few necessities, leaving behind everything he reasonably could. No need to alert anyone’s suspicions. Jim left the ship as soon as he was off watch and took a coach to London. He watched the countryside passing by, wondering when he’d come this way again. The idyllic green fields rolling by contrasted sharply with the turmoil in Jim’s mind. 

Once in London, Jim found a lodging house as close to Newgate as possible, and met up with Trelawney at his house in the city. The Squire was, as always, delighted to see Jim. “Come in, come in! What are you doing in London, Jim?”

“Ah, visiting friends!” It was technically true. 

“Of course! Please, make yourself comfortable.” He ushered Jim into a well-appointed sitting room and ordered tea for them both. 

Once they had exchanged niceties, Jim got right to it. “I have a favour to ask, actually. You have contacts at Newgate Prison, don’t you?”

“Why, yes I do! I am well-acquainted with the keeper there.”

Jim steeled himself. “Would you be able to keep him busy and away from the prison tonight?”

Trelawney’s usually jovial face creased in concern. He set down his teacup. “Jim, that’s an odd request. What do you have planned?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Trelawney played awkwardly with a paper on his desk. “I had heard that the pirate John Silver was brought to Newgate….” He trailed off, looking worried. 

“Please, don’t ask me.” Jim’s gaze was fierce. 

Trelawney sighed. “Yes, Jim, I can make sure that the keeper is engaged. But please don’t request this kind of favour from me again. You know I think the world of you! Why not stick to the Navy? It’s a fine profession for a young man like yourself.”

Jim shook his hand vigourously. “I can’t thank you enough. I owe you a debt, Squire Trelawney.”

“Yes, yes. Be safe, young man.”

Jim was full of nervous energy as he left Trelawney’s house. Come Hell or high water, Jim would be breaking into the most dreaded prison in England that night. 

Back at the lodging house, Jim dressed in dark clothing. He strapped a small club to his belt, praying that he wouldn’t need it. Gold jangled heavily in his purse — he had cleared out his account at the bank in Portsmouth in expectation of needing to bribe a guard or two. Just after sundown, Jim set out, attempting to appear inconspicuous as he walked the few blocks to the prison. His nerves were terrible. What if he couldn’t get into the prison? What if Silver wasn’t actually there? So many things could go wrong. 

———

Jim crept down the stairs at Newgate Prison towards the rooms where those condemned to death were held. So far, everything was going swimmingly: the keeper was out with Trelawney for the evening, and Jim had paid off the guard at the main gate to turn a blind eye as he snuck inside. A foul odour assailed Jim’s nose as he made his way deeper into the prison — the filth of hundreds of miserable men, without hope, waiting only for death to claim them. Jim was dismayed at how dark and squalid the halls were. How could anyone be kept in these conditions?

How Jim would actually get Silver out of the prison was a problem that he hadn’t thought of a good solution to. Jim expected that Silver might be very weak when he found him, and with only one leg, it would be very difficult to get him to the lodging house. Jim had figured that he’d cross that bridge when he came to it, but now that he was actually in Newgate, he regretted not giving it more thought in advance. 

Jim passed by a room that appeared to be used for storage. Glancing around nervously, he ducked inside. He didn’t have much time, but it was possible he’d find something of use in here. 

Mostly the room contained boxes of what Jim assumed were prisoners’ personal effects. He spotted many extra chains and manacles for use in the prison, and he got a horrifying glimpse of what looked like a torture device. 

Just when he was about to give up, Jim spotted a crutch leaning up against a wall, with a variety of other medical supplies. He felt giddy with relief. The crutch was in bad shape, but it would do to get Silver out. 

Jim stepped out of the storage room and nearly ran into a guard. The man’s eyes widened in surprise. Before he could yell an alert, Jim swung the club he’d brought at the man’s head. The guard dropped to the ground, unmoving. 

Jim’s hands shook as he rifled through the guard’s pockets, glancing at his face. Blood oozed from his hairline. Christ, he hoped he hadn’t killed the man. There was truly no going back from this. 

Jim stood, keys in hand. Now he just had to find Silver in this labyrinth of a prison. He went one by one through the rooms, gagging at the men chained to each other, lying in their own filth. Jim flinched when a rat skittered over his foot. What condition would he find Silver in?

After what felt like hours, Jim finally spotted a crumpled figure in a cell that looked familiar. His heart leapt. Jim stepped past several other groaning men and knelt by Silver. 

Silver’s clothes were filthy, and his hair was tangled and matted. A trickle of blood had dried on one of his cheekbones. He was shackled to the man lying next to him. Jim felt his heart squeeze in his chest. 

Jim put a gentle hand to Silver’s face. His eyes fluttered open. He looked confused, squinting in the darkness. 

“What—”

Jim kept his voice low. “Shh. I’m here to get you out.”

Jim glanced around, then went to work on the shackles on Silver’s hands and foot, trying several keys before he found the one that fit. The locks were rusty and stiff, and the keys seemed to clank loudly in the echoing room. Jim felt Silver’s gaze on his face as he worked. 

Silver leant towards him. “By the powers, if it isn’t Jim Hawkins.”

Jim smiled grimly at him. “In the flesh.”

Silver shook his head in disbelief. “Lad, what are you doing here?”

They didn’t have time to have this discussion now. “Can you stand?”

“Aye. Not dead yet, am I?”

Jim felt a slight smile come over his face. It seemed like a good sign that Silver’s sense of humour was intact. 

He helped Silver, groaning, to his feet. Silver swayed, and Jim quickly ducked over to prop him up. “I found this crutch in the storage area — it doesn’t look the sturdiest, but better than nothing, I hope?”

Silver sighed in relief. “Jim, lad, you’re a wonder.” Silver leaned heavily on the crutch, and Jim led the way out of the cell. He looked back in pity at the other men still there before locking the door behind them. 

Jim slipped the keys back into the guard’s pocket on their way past. Silver’s eyes flickered between Jim and the guard, still out cold. “Lad, did you…”

Jim clenched his jaw and looked straight ahead. Silver’s eyes were on him, and he didn’t feel ready to answer the question that he knew was coming. _Why?_

“Come on,” Jim said briskly. 

Moving slowly, they made their way through the prison and out into the chilly early morning air. Jim saw no sign of any other guards, or the keeper of the prison. He prayed that the hue and cry wouldn’t be sounded until they were well out of London.

They passed through the dark streets, avoiding the guttering street lamps where they could. A block from the prison, Silver pulled Jim into an alley. He was breathing heavily and leaned against the damp brick wall of a building. Jim looked warily around them, but saw no sign of anyone. 

“One moment, lad, let me just catch my breath.” Silver was pale, and sweat beaded on his forehead. 

Jim looked at him in concern. “I’ve booked us a room at a lodging house just a few blocks from here — if you can make it that far, we can rest up and make a plan for what to do next.”

Silver swallowed. “Aye, lad, you’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

Jim huffed out a laugh. Silver stood again and limped back towards the entrance of the alleyway. 

They arrived at the lodging house, slowly climbing the stairs to the room Jim had rented. Jim locked the door behind them and finally let out the breath he’d been holding for days. _Safe for now._

Jim looked around the room and grimaced at the single bed. He’d have to take the floor tonight, which his back wouldn’t thank him for tomorrow. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, head resting in his hands. He had never been so tired in his life. He heard a splash of water and looked up to see Silver washing his face at the basin next to the bed. He looked dead on his feet, hands shaking as he dipped them in the water. Jim jumped up. 

“Long John, let me help. You should sit.”

Silver looked at him and nodded, leaning heavily on the table. The lines of his body screamed exhaustion. Jim grabbed the wooden chair in the corner and dragged it over. Silver sat with a sigh, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. 

Jim picked up the rag from the basin and wrung it out. He looked at Silver and gulped. Christ, the man was really here in front of him. Hadn’t Jim dreamt about this for ten long years?

Jim picked up one of Silver’s hands from where it was resting on his thigh. That was safe enough. Silver opened his eyes and quirked an eyebrow at him. Jim ran the cloth lightly over the skin of Silver’s wrist, swollen from the manacles he had worn. Silver hissed out a breath. When Jim looked up at him, Silver’s eyes were on his face. Silver’s lips curved in a tentative smile. 

“Well, Jim, ol’ Long John would surely love to hear about your exploits of the last ten years. You must be full to the brim with stories of your adventures!”

Jim smiled crookedly at him. “I’ve been in the Navy for most of it.” He switched to cleaning Silver’s other hand. 

“Ah, a Navy man, I should have guessed! Keeping our English waters safe from foreign powers and wicked pirates!” Silver’s eyes were wide and teasing. 

Jim couldn’t smile back at Silver. Anxiety crept through his gut. He’d been busy enough the last few days that he hadn’t had much time to think about his desertion. At this point, surely it had to be clear that Jim wasn’t coming back. 

Something must have changed in Jim’s face, for Silver cocked his head. “What is it, lad?”

Jim shot a nervous glance at him. “I can’t go back. It won’t be impossible to connect my disappearance with your escape.” Jim couldn’t look at Silver’s face. “I never thought I’d be a deserter.”

He concentrated on cleaning the last of the grime off Silver’s hands. His fingernails were still filthy.

Silver stopped Jim’s hands. Jim looked up at him. Silver appeared troubled. “You shouldn’t have come for me, Jim, but I can’t regret that I’m here, instead of still in chains at Newgate.”

Jim nodded at him, mouth twisting. He dunked the cloth in the basin again. “Can I wash your face?”

“Aye, lad.” Silver parted his legs slightly. Jim swallowed, then stepped just between his knees. They were very close. Jim wiped gently at the cut on Silver’s cheek. Silver clenched his teeth and blinked up at the ceiling. Jim made to draw back.

“No, Jim, it’s fine. Just stings, is all.”

Jim dabbed a few more times at the cut, then got to work cleaning the blood and dirt out of Silver’s beard. Silver closed his eyes with a sigh. He looked tired. Jim noticed wrinkles around Silver’s eyes that hadn’t been there the last time they had seen each other. Silver’s beard was more grey than brown now. By God, had it really been ten years? Jim felt an unspeakable tenderness towards this fierce man in front of him, now vulnerable under Jim’s hands. 

Jim tried to think of a topic that wouldn’t reveal the feelings battering away inside him. “How did you finally get caught?”

Silver laughed, launching into a story involving a skirmish with British colonists in West Florida. It was a true comedy of errors; according to Silver, it was pure chance that he had been captured. Jim was skeptical of the veracity of the whole tale, but it was told with Silver’s usual flair, and he seemed a bit more like his old self while telling it. 

Jim rubbed the rag down to Silver’s neck. He imagined placing his hands there, rubbing at Silver’s collarbone, tracing his fingers down to Silver’s chest — Jim looked up at Silver’s face to find him watching Jim. Time seemed to slow as Silver’s gaze grew inquiring. Silver swallowed and moistened his lips. He seemed about to speak. Jim flushed and dropped his gaze. A droplet of water ran into the collar of Silver’s shirt, which was black and filthy from the prison.

“Oh — I have a change of clothes for you!” Jim stepped back from Silver. Good God, he’d been so distracted that he’d completely forgotten. _Jim, get ahold of yourself._

Jim went to his bag and dug around in it for the shirt and trousers he’d brought for Silver. He took a deep, steadying breath while he had his back turned. The reality of being so close to Silver was more overwhelming than Jim had anticipated. He’d forgotten how magnetic the man was, even now, when he wasn’t at his best. 

Jim returned with the spare set of clothes, trying not to look as Silver stripped out of his shirt. Jim squeezed out the rag in the basin. The water was grimy. He glanced over at Silver and noticed bruising all along his front. “Long John, that looks bad.”

Silver looked down at himself. “Ah, the guards were rough with me when they brought me in. Newgate isn’t known for its hospitality.”

Jim frowned at him. Silver reached for the rag Jim was holding. “I’ll finish up, lad. You should sit — you look near ready to fall over.”

Jim realized that he was, indeed, very tired. He sat on the bed and ran his hand through his hair. By God, he’d really done it. Silver was safe from the hangman, at least for the moment. 

He felt the bed dip further as Silver settled heavily next to him. Jim looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He smiled wearily at Silver. Silver’s eyes scanned Jim’s face. “So, what’s next in this brilliant plan of yours, lad?”

Jim let out a breath that wasn’t quite a sob and looked away. “This is as far as my plan goes. I… hadn’t thought past getting you out.” _I didn’t want to let myself hope that I’d succeed,_ he didn’t say. 

Silver ruffled Jim’s hair gently. “I never knew you to be reckless, Jim.” There was a question in his voice. His hand dropped back to Jim’s shoulder. 

Jim laughed softly. “I’m not, usually. Just when it comes to you, it seems.” _That was overly honest._ Jim grimaced. 

“Hell, Jim, why would you give up everything for ol’ Long John? God knows I deserved that sentence. You’re an outlaw now, lad, like it or no.”

Jim looked at Silver helplessly. Silver had a slight frown on his face. 

“I couldn’t….” He swallowed. “When I heard that you were to be hanged, I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did nothing.”

Silver shook his head. There was something like fear in his eyes. “You should have forgotten about me after I left you on the deck of the Hispaniola, Jim. Lord, the image of you, standing there so sad with your father’s compass, it didn’t leave my mind for ages. I surely didn’t do right by you then, lad.” He squeezed Jim’s shoulder, hand warm through Jim’s shirt.

Jim paused, looking straight at Silver. “Long John, I could never forget you.”

Silver’s brows were furrowed. “Jim, I…” His hand slid up to Jim’s neck. 

Jim’s heart was beating rapidly as Silver’s thumb rubbed over his jaw. His fingers were rough from a lifetime of hard work. Jim wet his lips. “Yes?”

Silver leant towards Jim ever so slowly, as if giving Jim the opportunity to pull away. Jim was frozen in disbelief, vividly aware of Silver’s fingers on his neck, Silver’s breath upon his lips, Silver’s green eyes moving ever closer. With a sob, Jim closed the distance between them.

Silver’s lips were unimaginably gentle. Jim’s hands came up to clutch at his shirt. Silver’s skin was damp where Jim’s fingertips skimmed over it. Silver cradled Jim’s head tenderly in his hands. His fingers ran through Jim’s hair. They kissed for long moments, Silver’s beard scratching at Jim’s mouth. 

Finally Silver broke away, panting. “I’m a bad man, Jim.”

Jim looked at him. “I know.” His mouth twisted into a small smile. “I don’t care.” It was the truth. 

Silver pressed his forehead against Jim’s and closed his eyes. “Hell, lad. This morning I thought I had only a few days left to live, and here I am tonight, a free man having the living daylights kissed out of him by handsome Jim Hawkins!”

Jim laughed shakily against his lips. “An improvement in situation, I hope?”

Silver responded by licking into Jim’s mouth. Jim groaned. Silver dragged a hand down Jim’s arm to his side, holding him steady. 

Jim had always imagined that Silver would be talented at the art of seduction, but the reality of him was more tender and intimate than Jim could have known. Silver seemed as desperate as Jim was, gasping into Jim’s mouth and running gentle fingers over Jim’s face as they kissed. 

Jim slid towards Silver on the bed, pressing their thighs together. He slipped a hand under Silver’s shirt. Lord, he’d wanted this man for so long. His fingers slid up Silver’s side, pressing insistently. 

Silver hissed in pain. Jim sprung back. 

“Oh — sorry!”

“Damn it.” Silver winced. “It’s possible I have a cracked rib in addition to the bruises.”

Jim lifted Silver’s shirt and gently brushed a hand across his side. Silver’s breathing was deliberately even. He held his body stiffly. 

Jim felt helpless. “What can I do?”

“Not much, lad. It just needs time to heal. I’m not sure I’m up for much tonight, though.” He grimaced apologetically. 

Jim flushed. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting—”

“Don’t misunderstand me, Jim. It’s not that I don’t want to.” Silver’s grin was wicked. Jim felt hot all over. Silver reached out a hand for Jim’s face, swiping his thumb over Jim’s lips. 

Jim leant forward until his face was just inches from Silver’s. Silver’s eyes were on Jim’s mouth. “You should sleep, Long John. You've had a long day. I’ll still be here in the morning.” 

Silver pulled Jim in for another kiss, and they sank back — carefully — into the bed. 

———

Jim woke slowly, coming into consciousness to find his face pressed against a strong shoulder. The light coming through the curtains indicated that it was late morning. Jim stretched languourously. Silver’s body was pressed along Jim’s. Jim gently brushed a hand along Silver’s side, avoiding the bruising there. Silver’s arm was wrapped around Jim’s shoulders, and his fingers rubbed idly at Jim’s arm. 

Jim blinked blearily up at Silver, stifling a yawn. Silver smiled sleepily at him. His dark hair spread messily over the pillow. Jim arched his neck, angling for a kiss with a coy look. Silver indulged him. They kissed, slow and wet, until Jim yawned and turned his head back into the pillow. 

“Good morning, lad.” Jim could hear the smile in Silver’s voice. 

Jim just hummed sleepily. His hips moved unconsciously against Silver. Silver sucked in a breath. His hand traced down Jim’s side, just on the edge of ticklish. Jim squirmed. “Can I help you with something there, Jim?”

Jim’s body felt tight all over. “If you want.” He smiled into Silver’s shoulder. 

“Oh, lad, I do.” Silver undid Jim’s buttons and slid his hand into Jim’s drawers. Jim let out a soft noise when Silver touched him. Silver’s hand was gentle and teasing, moving ever so slowly. Jim’s hips jerked desperately against Silver. 

“Easy, there, Jim.” Silver’s mouth was pressed against Jim’s hair. 

“Please, Long John —” Jim knew he should be embarrassed at how needy he sounded. 

“Shh, lad, shh. Long John’ll take care of you.” His voice was a low rumble in Jim’s ear. 

Jim let out a sobbing breath against Silver’s shoulder as Silver stroked him, still so soft and slow. Silver’s other hand skated down Jim’s back, nails scratching gently. 

“Please, you can go harder, Long John.”

Silver made a tutting noise. “We’ll get there, lad. Be patient.” 

Jim whimpered. This was torture. Silver was a cruel, cruel man. Jim continued to rock into Silver’s hand. Silver leant down for a kiss, which Jim returned sloppily. 

“Christ, you’re so good for me, Jim.” Jim shuddered at the praise. “Ah, you like that, do you? Being told what a good, perfect job you’re doing?” Jim could hear the smirk in Silver’s voice. He nodded, shamefaced. 

“Oh, Jim, you’re a wonder. I’d keep you here for days if I could, all mine, my good lad. You’re doing so well.”

Jim was making low noises with every stroke of Silver’s hand. He pressed his face into Silver’s neck. “Yes, Long John, all yours.”

Silver let out a shaking breath. Finally, his hand sped up. Jim panted, mouth wet against Silver’s shoulder. 

“Alright now, lad.” Silver’s presence, all wickedness and confidence and kindness, was overwhelming. Jim came, gasping, as Silver worked him through it. 

Jim’s whole body felt relaxed and loose as his breathing slowed. 

Jim licked his lips. “I’ll return the favour, just give me a moment.”

“No hurry at all, Jim.” Silver’s fingers rubbed through Jim’s hair, and Jim nearly purred at the touch. He felt so good. 

After a moment, Jim slid a hand down Silver’s stomach to his waistband. He ran a finger through the coarse hairs there, earning a slow, hissing breath from Silver. Jim undid the buttons on Silver’s trousers and slipped his hand inside. Silver groaned as Jim put his hand on him. He leant over for a kiss, which Jim happily provided. 

Silver mumbled into Jim’s mouth, “Christ, Jim, yes, just like that.” Jim felt Silver thrust up into his hand as their lips moved slickly together. He was making low, filthy noises in his throat as Jim stroked faster. Jim shivered. _I’m making him feel like that._

Silver squeezed Jim’s arm and cursed into his mouth. “Hell, Jim —”

“Come on, Long John, please —” Jim couldn’t look away as Silver lost control under him. 

Silver’s chest heaved as he finished. Jim wiped his hand on the bedsheet and leant back in for a kiss. Silver’s lips were so warm. Jim wanted to stay here forever. 

———

They dozed off and on for a bit longer as the light through the curtains shifted over them. Finally, Jim groaned and sat up. “We need to figure out how to get you out of the country.”

Silver sighed, throwing an arm across his face. “Aye, lad. I expect they’ll be looking for me already. If we can make it to Bristol, I have friends there who’ll help us rustle up a crew and a ship.”

Jim felt warmth rush through him at Silver’s easy use of the word “us.” The two of them were partners now, for better or worse. 

“I can book us a coach. We should be able to make Bristol in a few days.”

Silver smiled at Jim so warmly that Jim couldn’t help leaning over and kissing him again, easy and slow. _I could get used to waking up like this,_ Jim thought to himself as Silver’s lips moved softly against his. 

Jim and Silver sat there together, wrapped in their bedsheets and the warm light of the morning, as they planned the next few days and the tentative beginning of the next part of their lives. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but no matter what came next, Jim would be right by Silver’s side, ready to take on the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> Newgate Prison fucking sucked, folks. Like, it was real bad.
> 
> As always, apologies for any historical inaccuracies!
> 
> Title from “Who Saved Who” by Mindy Smith & Matthew Perryman Jones.


End file.
